


All My Tomorrows

by IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis/pseuds/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis
Summary: "Gellert knew he had no chance of this working. But what little chance he had depended upon Albus seeing him – recognizing something in him of that boy he had been that one summer they had shared together. So long ago."





	All My Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> There’s this line in _Me and Bobby McGee_ by Janis Joplin: “I’d trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday” – and the whole song is just so nostalgic and melancholy – it set this whole Grindeldore fic in motion.

It hadn’t been hard to find him. The speakers for the alchemy symposium had been announced in advance. Gellert wondered if Albus had fought to keep his name from being made public, or if he liked the attention. Probably both. He didn’t want Gellert to find him, but wanted everyone else to know who he was.  
The hypocrisy was maddening at times. Albus wanted power as much as Gellert did – but it didn’t seem that he had an ideology particularly. Just fear. Fear of being found out. Fear of trusting – anyone.  
Fear of being known.  
Gellert wanted to blame Albus’ family – there was always so much that they were obliged to hide. Gellert and Albus had been having sex for weeks before he even knew that Albus had a sister. But in the end, Albus had to be held responsible for his own choices, didn’t he? 

Gellert sat in the back of the audience, listening to Albus present his paper. He was brilliant, as always. Gods, Gellert had missed him. His mind, his voice, his gestures – everything. The beard was new. It suited him – and it covered how little he smiled. Gellert remembered how relaxed, how open Albus’ face had been that summer they were together. He looked tighter now around the eyes, the mouth – it was impossible to tell how much tension the rest of his face was carrying under that beard.  
Gellert was hiding, too – he was glamoured as Aberforth. Or – he was hiding from everyone but Albus. Albus would know that it was him – Aberforth certainly wouldn’t show up at a conference like this. And it was a signal that Gellert remembered that Albus had once called him brother. 

After his presentation, when the last well wisher was starting to walk away, Gellert approached Albus.  
“Brother,” he called from a small distance.  
“_Aberforth_,” Albus replied. “I wasn’t expecting you to come.”  
“No, I suppose you weren’t,” said Gellert. “How long do you anticipate staying here in Geneva? I had hoped to speak to you.”  
“I am expected at Hogwarts –“

“It is summer, Brother.” Gellert said quietly, menace creeping in just around the edges. “School has not yet started. Let us not start with such transparent dishonesty. You insult me.”  
“Dishonesty?!” Albus said incredulously. Then he whispered harshly, “What of you, _Aberforth_?”  
“I did what I had to in order to speak to you without being arrested,” Gellert whispered back. “No more than that. I was not dishonest _with you_ – you knew it was me from the beginning.”  
Albus was silent. Calculating most likely. Looking over Gellert’s shoulder and smiling and nodding at various people.  
“I would speak with you, Albus. Please.”  
Albus nodded, and they walked out into the night.

///////

Albus sighed. “Why tonight, Gellert?”  
“Tonight is the first time in five years that I have known where you would be – excluding when you are at Hogwarts, of course, but – the security there is – difficult to penetrate.”  
Gellert said nothing of the owls that he had sent to Albus, twice monthly, for the past 20 years – unanswered. He said nothing of his annual visits to his Aunt Bathilda in Godric’s Hollow – visits that he always notified Albus of ahead of time.  
‘Why tonight?’  
As if he hadn’t been reaching out for years.

Albus hadn’t replied. Perhaps he felt he had nothing to say. Gellert supposed that was fair – after all, he was the one who had wanted to speak with Albus. He was prepared, and Albus was not.  
“I have a room here in Geneva for the week, and an apartment that is within apparating distance. As well as a portkey to a cottage... I would prefer to speak with you somewhere private, so that I can look like myself.”  
Gellert knew he had no chance of this working. But what little chance he had depended upon Albus seeing him – recognizing something in him of that boy he had been that one summer they had shared together. So long ago. But not too long ago for Gellert to remember how it had felt to lay beside him holding his hand, watching the tree branches swaying above them in the breeze. What it felt like to duel him and then tumble on the grass together, exhausted.

Albus was quiet. Considering the options Gellert had given him? There were of course other options. Exposing Gellert, walking away, insisting on meeting in public with Gellert still looking like Aberforth...  
“I swear on my magic, Albus. You will walk away freely and unharmed, no matter which choice you make.”

“The cottage. Is it secluded? Will anyone see us?”  
“It is. They won’t.”  
Albus nodded, and he led Gellert behind a nearby restaurant.  
Gellert took a quill out of his pocket. It had been Albus’ quill once – not that he seemed to recognize it. Not that he would have acknowledged it if he did. Gellert wasn’t sure whether Albus did sentiment. He wasn’t sure of a lot of things. Gellert held the quill, and Albus touched it, and they spun away, landing on a cliff high above the ocean – a stone cottage not far away.  
Albus removed his hand from the quill and stepped away.

They stood there uncertainly, outside of the cottage that Gellert had purchased long ago – just a few years after his break with Albus. He had hoped that the two of them might live there together one day, on this otherwise uninhabited island off Ireland’s Atlantic coast. The violent weather and empty landscape had drawn him in – he had often imagined making love to Albus in the cottage – their intensity matched by the intensity of the tumultuous ocean outside. He hadn’t been there in years – his past fantasies were too powerful - they filled every room.  
“It’s lovely,” whispered Albus. Then, after clearing his throat. “What now?”  
“Tea?” asked Gellert.  
“Tea,” said Albus with a small smile. “That’s a good start.”

///////

They sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea. When Albus set down his cup, Gellert asked, “Did you ever read them? My letters?”  
Albus looked away. “I didn’t at first. I haven’t ... I read one of them.”  
One. Out of – more than 400? One.  
“How long ago?”  
“Four years?”  
“During the War, then.”  
“During the War.”

Gellert waited. Albus might have been the last to speak, but it was his move.  
“You were right – about the War. About the Muggles – the trenches, the poison gas, the flames – all of it.”  
What was Gellert supposed to say to that?  
‘I know.’  
‘Obviously.’  
‘And...?’  
‘Does it matter?’

So Gellert said nothing.  
“Aeroplanes...” Albus added in a whisper, seemingly horrified.  
Still Gellert said nothing.

“It’s not too late, Gellert –“  
“Not too late for what, Albus? Do you know what those letters said? The ones you did not read? ‘Take me back.’ I would walk away from any of it before I would walk away from you.”  
“You _did_ walk away from me!”  
“Yes,” said Gellert, already tired of the way this was going. “But let’s not forget that you told me to.”  
“I didn’t –“  
“I know that lying is a way of life for you, Albus, but lying to yourself is dangerous. You begin to lose who you are.”  
“I’m not –“  
“You are!” Gellert could barely restrain himself from shouting.  
“When Ariana died, you told me, ‘This is all your fault,’ you told me, ‘Aberforth was right about you,’ you told me, ‘I never want to see you again.’ _I never want to see you again_. It isn’t much more clear than that, Albus.”  
“I didn’t really mean it.”  
Gellert waved his hand and looked away. Perhaps Albus didn’t mean it. There was no way for Gellert to know. There was a time when he would have believed Albus without question. Gellert longed for that time. He stretched himself, but found that old trust was out of reach.

Either way, it wouldn’t help to disengage.  
“If you didn’t mean it, why didn’t you open my letters?”  
“Embarrassment.” That was probably true.  
“Liebe –“ Albus winced at the old pet name. Gellert didn't even try for sympathy.  
“Liebe, if I had stayed in Godric’s Hollow, would you have –“  
“I don’t know,” Albus replied. “But now – it has been so long, Gellert. Too long, I think.”  
“I would start fresh for you, Albus. I would walk away from Europe, from all that I have been doing there.”

“No, Gellert. Who would you be without your _Greater Good_, without your war and your politics?”  
That was unfair. It had been Albus who had given him those words.

“I would rather be someone who has you! It has all been empty without you, Albus. And I’m sure that I have been making mistakes, but I don’t know what they are – I need you. I need you to clarify my ideas, to make me better. And you need me to see you for who you are.”  
“I don’t need –“  
“You do, Albus. You look miserable. Handsome, but miserable.”  
Albus did not reply. He started tapping his foot: impatient, ready to run.

“Albus, you know now what I would give up for you. What would you give up for me?”  
“I have nothing...”  
“You have Hogwarts, you have Britain. I have crimes to my account, and I will not tolerate being caged. That would defeat the purpose in any case – I could hardly have you while locked in Azkaban. I am asking if you would hide with me, if you would go somewhere where there is no extradition – there is a wizarding school in Brazil, I understand.”

“Brazil.”  
“Brazil is safe, Albus. I would not take you to Japan, or China, or North Africa, or anywhere in Europe. It is going to be a bloodbath. I would spare you that.”  
“And you know this –“  
“You _know_ how I know this, Albus. It is not down to me. This is the Muggles’ doing, twenty years from now. But it begins slowly – it begins soon. Perhaps we could say it has already begun. It is too big to be stopped – the pieces are in motion already. But with your help, perhaps we could find a way to make it less...”

“Don’t tempt me, Gellert! Don’t tell me that you want to save lives, to save Muggles – don’t tell me that you can only do it with me! It isn’t true – none of it.”  
Gellert put his head in his hands for a moment, then looked up and met Albus’ eyes. “I have never lied to you, Liebe. Not once. I loved you. I love you still.”  
Albus looked aghast. “You... don’t...” he whispered.  
Gellert sighed. “I do. Freyja help me, I do.”

They sat without speaking for a long time. Their tea had gone cold, but they didn’t drink it. There was fire whiskey on a side table, but they didn’t pour it.  
Finally, Albus spoke. “I can’t, Gellert. I can’t give you what you want.”  
Gellert nodded. It was the answer he had expected, but decidedly not the answer he had hoped for. 

“Perhaps you can do something else for me,” he said. He took out the Elder Wand and waved it – and suddenly he and Albus looked as they had that long ago summer when they had been lovers.  
“If we cannot be together anymore, perhaps you can give me a night of remembering what we were.”  
Albus looked broken – he looked like that beautiful vulnerable boy that Gellert had known – the boy that only Gellert had truly known. Albus stood and walked over to Gellert. Was he going to hit him? It was arguably justified. Gellert had known that he might resort to this, but Albus had no way of anticipating it.  
But when he reached Gellert, Albus did not strike him - instead he laid his hand on Gellert's cheek.  
“Gellert. Oh Love, I am so sorry.” He took Gellert’s hand and pulled him up to standing. 

Gellert kept holding Albus’ hand, and with his other hand, ran his fingers over the face he remembered. Was Albus really going to allow this?  
“Yes?” He asked.  
“Yes,” said Albus, leaning forward. Gellert met him, pressing his open mouth to Albus’. There were no tentative forays – they had been hungry for one another too long, and their bodies remembered exactly what to do. Albus’ tongue was in Gellert’s mouth, and Gellert’s chest was light with the rapture of Albus taking control – of Albus wanting him.  
Gellert broke away reluctantly to ask, “Bed?”  
Albus groaned. “Yes. Yes, bed.”

Gellert led Albus to the bedroom. It was a bit awkward, because Albus didn’t want to let go of Gellert. He was pressed up against Gellert, hugging him from behind and nuzzling against the back of his neck all the way – it was only 12 feet but it took twice as long to traverse as it would have done otherwise.  
It made Gellert ache, remembering how snuggly Albus had been – how he would cling to Gellert like a life raft. 

When they reached the bed, Gellert pulled off one of Albus’ hands, then took the other, and pulled Albus around to face him.  
“Are you ok, Liebe? You still want this?”  
“Please, Gellert.” Albus pushed off Gellert’s coat, then began unbuttoning his vest, then his shirt – all by hand.  
Gellert was amused in spite of himself. “Not going to just vanish it all, then?”

Albus answered by kissing Gellert’s neck. Sucking on it gently, so as to avoid leaving a mark.  
“I want to unwrap you slowly, Love. I intend to take my time.”  
“And what if I am more impatient than you?”  
Albus smiled mischievously at Gellert.  
“Then you must do to suit yourself.”  
Gellert took this as permission, and vanished all of Albus’ clothing. His breath hitched. He had thought he had not forgotten – but he had certainly forgotten. He had remembered that Albus was flawless, but he had not remembered the details. Every inch of Albus was begging to be mapped with his hands, with his mouth. It was hard to know where to begin. He saw the wisdom of Albus’ strategy. 

“So now that you have me naked, what are you going to do with me?”  
“I don’t know,” gasped Gellert, still overwhelmed.  
Albus laughed. “So we really are time travelling, then?”  
They had both been so inexperienced that summer. Everything had been new.

“Hush,” said Gellert, “You’re spoiling the illusion.”  
But he couldn’t help wondering now what Albus’ almost 40 year old body looked like. He wanted to see it – to see present Albus. Not that past Albus wasn’t appealing. No, that wasn’t right at all. Past Albus was magnificent. But past Albus didn’t exist anymore. They were just pretending. Could this be counted as dishonesty? He had told Albus that he had never lied to him - was this his first lie?  
‘Pull yourself together, Gellert. You are the one who asked for this.’

“Alright, then. You want to know what I am going to do with you? I am going to let you continue undressing me, while I put my hands wherever I can reach. And then I am going to take your cock in my mouth.”  
Albus’ eyes were wide already, and Gellert was just getting started. 

Gellert took advantage of Albus’ open mouth and kissed him urgently.  
When they were both out of breath, Gellert reached down and grasped Albus’ cock, and continued, “I am going to make you come so hard you forget your name.”  
“Gellert –“ Albus breathed.  
“When you are properly wrung out, I am going to hover over you, admiring you and kissing you all over for as long as we can bear before I take possession of your arse with my cock. And I will ask you if you want me fast or slow, hard or gentle, because I have always found pleasure in being inside of you, in whatever way you wish.”  
Albus gasped.

“So, Liebe. Do you approve of my plan?”  
Albus nodded.  
“Words please, Liebe.”  
“Yes, Gellert. Yes. All of it.”  
“You want me?”  
Albus closed his eyes and turned his head. “I always want you.”

Now it was Gellert’s turn to lose his composure – to find it difficult to breathe.  
He released Albus’ cock and laid a hand on his face. With his other hand, he reached for Albus’ hand, brought it up to his mouth, and kissed his palm.  
“You have me Liebe... I’m yours.”  
Albus opened his eyes and looked at Gellert, and Gellert kissed him gently, full of tenderness and reassurance.  
“Now, Liebe, I believe the plan first calls for you to undress me.” 

///////

Albus was laying in the bed, looking relaxed all over. Gellert was glad to have given him that, if nothing else. Gellert was sitting on the edge of the bed, wanting to hold Albus, but uncertain of his welcome.  
Albus reached out his hand, and Gellert took it.  
“What would you have me do, Gellert?”

What would he have Albus do? Was it right to wish for more than he had already received? Albus had already said no, after all. Less than two hours ago.  
“I would have you stay with me tonight. I would that you would be willing to wake up with me in the morning as yourself, who you are now.”  
“Gellert, please just remove the illusion now. Let us hold one another and fall asleep together as ourselves – our present selves.”  
Gellert had not dared to hope for that. He had not dared to hope even for Albus to agree to seeing Gellert in their present forms at all before leaving. 

“Truly?”  
“Yes, Gellert.”  
Gellert reached for the Wand, and returned them to their present selves.  
Albus sat next to Gellert and ran his thumb over his lips.  
“Your lips are the same. Your eyes. Your smile. So much of you. I – I am sorry that I didn’t allow myself to see it.”  
“Hmm. Well, there is a great deal that is different.”

“I do miss your hair.”  
“And I miss seeing your face. But I imagine that was strategic.”  
“As was the hair, no doubt.”  
Gellert smiled. “Well, it is difficult to look menacing with long wavy hair.”  
“I imagine you could have managed it, Darling. I think that you cut it all off because I loved it long.”  
“Oh? That important, are you?” Gellert teased.  
Albus sighed. “It – seems I am.”  
“Yes, you are Liebe.”

“What would you have me do?” Albus asked again. “Not tonight, not tomorrow morning, but... after.”  
“I have already told you, Albus.”  
“Ask me again?”  
Was it possible for his answer to be any different? Truly? After such lovemaking, could his answer be trusted?

“I will ask you in the morning. Tonight, I will only ask you to stay until tomorrow, until we are both awake. And if you leave, to kiss me before you go. Though I would be happier if, instead of just kissing me, you would make love to me in my real body, with your real body. I don't just want what we had tonight. I want more than an illusion. I want you.”  
“Yes.”  
“Yes?”  
“Yes, I will. Make love to you in the morning. I love you, Gellert.”  
Would Albus even be there when Gellert woke up? Did he really love Gellert? The answers could wait until tomorrow. Right now, Gellert needed to believe Albus was telling the truth.  
“I love you too, Albus. Always."


End file.
